


We Change the Weather

by RurouniHime



Series: Urban Architecture [5]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Sweethearts, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, F/F, Getting Back Together, Graysexual Newt, M/M, Meet the Family, Reunions, Slice of Life, Surprises, and too many italics, woeful abuse of the word friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: There's still someone who has no idea Thomas is back.
Relationships: Harriet/Sonya | Elizabeth "Lizzy" (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: Urban Architecture [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1027326
Comments: 7
Kudos: 79





	We Change the Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Seems to Be Our Only Way](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14111625) by [RurouniHime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime). 



> Just a little snip that takes place directly after the end of Seems to Be Our Only Way. Totally self-indulgent.
> 
> Title is from Sucker by the Jonas Brothers.

Outside the bistro, after the whirlwind of hugs and exchanged numbers, Newt takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone. 

“Hey, put it on speaker,” Thomas says, suddenly crowded against him. He reaches under Newt’s arm for the phone. _“Speaker,_ Newt.”

“Would you give me a moment already?” He bats the questing hands away and ducks out of reach. “Oy, leave off, I was just about to—Mum?”

“Oh, darling, it’s you, excellent,” his mother says over the line. “Where are you? Did you remember you were going to join me at the gardening shops today?”

Newt glances at Thomas, Sonya, and Harriet—all a safe distance away now, all grinning as they listen in. “Yes, of course. Half two, right?”

 _“Yes,”_ his mother sighs her relief, “I just need you to carry, love, I don’t have enough arms for the sale they’re having and if I ever want to re-landscape without spending enough to purchase a small country, I need—”

“Mum, it’s fine, I told you. I’ll be there.”

“Bring Sonya. And Harriet, bring Harriet. More arms.”

“We’ll be there, Sheila!” Harriet calls.

“Brilliant.”

Newt clears his throat. “Will four of us be enough?”

“Four?”

“Yeah.”

The pause tells him he’s failed miserably at sounding casual. “Unless you’re busy, darling,” his mother says.

“I’m not busy.” He rolls his eyes when she pauses again. “Mum, I told you I’d help. I hadn’t forgotten.”

She’s cautious now. “I just know you’ve been… busy.”

“Busy.”

“Lately.”

“Busy lately.” 

She tsks, cross. “Newton Edward Isaacs, I am not blind. You’ve had _commitments,_ and not for work. You’re out quite a lot these days, and you missed last Sunday dinner.”

“I thought you said—”

“Yes, I did! And I still do. You’re your own man, and you’ve got friends and who knows, maybe a _friend—_ ”

“Mum—” 

“—and that’s your business, I’m not pressuring, darling, I’m glad for you. It’s been a long time since you, you know, but I just, I don’t want to interrupt.”

“What would you be interrupting?”

 _“Anything,”_ his mother intones meaningfully. 

Thomas is outright snorting against his laughter now. Newt makes a grab for him but he squirrels out of reach.

“Mum.” Newt’s face heats. He glares at Thomas, who begins preening like a bloody peacock, making Sonya snort with laughter too. “Look, I’m just bringing another friend, it’s not a big deal.” 

Her tone becomes teasing almost immediately. “Well, sometimes a friend is somewhat special, you know.”

 _Somewhat,_ Thomas mouths, looking pained.

“Definitely nothing special.” A guffaw is building in Newt’s chest, not helped in the slightest by Thomas’ shit-eating grin. For God’s sake, the tip of Tommy’s tongue is playing over his _teeth._ “This one’s a right prat, you’ll hate him on sight. Anyway. Is half an hour alright?”

“Half an _hour?_ Good Lord, you have to give me more warning than that, I’m barely even dressed!”

Which means she’s got her housecoat on over her day-clothes, her hair is tied up in a lopsided knot, and she’s shuffling around in those ridiculous unicorn slippers Sonya got her, with the horns flopping off the front. “It’s literally two o’clock.”

“No, it isn’t, it’s—oh my God.”

“It’s okay. Casual’s fine.”

“Not for a _friend,_ Newt,” she berates him, and Newt’s blush intensifies. He valiantly attempts to scowl at Thomas’s double fistpump, at the high five Sonya lands on him. He can already hear his mum rushing around, gathering things off surfaces and kicking doors shut. “My God, this place is a tip. This wouldn’t happen to be that nice boy at the cafe by your work?”

“No,” he sputters, unable to curb the hilarity anymore.

“Oh. Well, will he be able to come to the shops, then? Can he carry, too?”

Thomas’ face is screwed up in confusion, and he’s mouthing things to Sonya, words like _nice boy_ and _café,_ only Sonya has doubled over howling at this point, clutching her knees. Newt socks her in the arm. “Yes, he can carry. In fact, he can just carry everything as far as I’m concerned.”

“Now, Newton, that’s no way to—bugger, where are my—oh, here they are. Come over, I’ll put the kettle on.”

He barely says goodbye before Thomas is wrapped around him, lips pressed to his cheek. He wiggles around, turns into it and kisses him full on the mouth instead. 

“You are a menace.”

“No,” Thomas mumbles against his lips, “I’m a _friend.”_

“Better go,” Newt murmurs. “Have to get across town.”

**

“We’re here,” Sonya hollers as she opens the front door.

“Hello, darlings!” their mum calls back from the kitchen. Where she’s undoubtedly been fidgeting with her cracked photo mug of a gap-toothed Newt and Sonya wearing three pigtails while she waited. Harriet comes in behind Sonya, Newt follows, and Thomas brings up the rear. As planned, Sonya and Harriet bustle noisily into the kitchen, yammering about the breakfast spread they just devoured, keeping Newt’s mum out of the long hallway.

Newt comes into the kitchen in time to catch his mum’s “That sounds lovely, dear, very healthy.”

“Hi, Mum.”

“Newt!” Her eyes light up, then flick behind him, to where Thomas is most definitely not visible yet. She smooths the front of her shirt—a nice lilac button down—with one hand and leans forward, hissing sotto voce, “Well?”

“Well?”

“There’s a special _friend_ of yours along?”

“Oh, he’s along alright,” Sonya titters, and their mum turns a bewildered frown on her.

Newt clears his throat again and fidgets for theatrical effect. “He’s...well...” 

His mother makes frantic get-on-with-it gestures, eyebrows leaping from her forehead. She looks excited, wary, hopeful all at once, and it’s been a hell of a long time since he went on any serious dates, and okay, perhaps this was a terrible idea.

“Mum, don’t get angry.” He turns out of the way and Thomas edges around the doorway with his hands in his pockets, shoulders around his ears. 

Newt’s mum freezes completely.

Then she’s a blur of movement, lunging across the kitchen with arms out. “Oh my God, _Thomas?_ Thomas, oh, oh my Lord, Thomas, are you, are you—?”

He sweeps her into a hug, now so much taller than she is, beaming. “Hi, Sheila.”

“You are enormous!” She clenches him so tightly that Newt hears his _oof,_ then backs away, hands over her face. “My goodness, just look at you.” Her eyes are so, so wide. “Are you... Thomas, are you actually...”

“Back?” Newt offers, and her head snaps to him. “Yes. He’s back.”

“For good,” Thomas says, shoving his hands back into his pockets, but it’s for naught because Newt’s mum’s got her arms around him again and is crushing the life out of him. She grabs his face next, strokes his hair and his shoulders in a rush and kisses his forehead.

“Oh, love, you’ve got so handsome, you’re the last thing I expected to see today! Does your mum know you’re here? Bloody hell, she _does,_ that’s why she was so giddy at lunch last week, oh my God, you little brats, you kept this from me, I ought to—” Whatever she ought to do gets lost in the third crushing hug, which Thomas returns with interest, burying his nose in her shoulder.

And then she jumps again. “Newton,” she says, spinning on him without letting Thomas out of her grip, “a _friend?”_

Newt’s face must give it away, because Harriet lets out a whistle.

“But you’ve been ducking out with someone for nearly two weeks!”

Newt hunches his shoulders, unable to meet her eyes, smiling fit to burst. His mother very nearly squirms in place. 

“Does that mean you two are—”

“Yes,” Thomas says, but his grin is all for Newt over her shoulder. Newt’s mum cackles and throws her arms around Thomas again.

“You _little_ brats. I hate you all.”

“I missed you too, Sheila,” Thomas muffles into her shoulder.

“Oh, you’re not carrying a thing. Newt here will get it all, especially the terra cotta urns.”

“Terra cotta urns?” Newt squawks. “Mum, you’ve got five of those already!”

“And now we’ll have two more.” She turns on Sonya, eyeing her beadily. “Perhaps three?”

Sonya holds up both hands. “Oh, no, I literally didn’t know a thing about it until I showed up to breakfast, I swear it.”

“You’ll be driving until I’m convinced of that, Sonya Elizabeth.” Newt’s mum links arms with Thomas, smiling up at him like she’s facing into the sun’s warmth. “You, on the other hand, will sit by me. It’ll be Newt’s punishment for this ridiculous scheme.”

“Aw,” Thomas murmurs, and busses her cheek.

“Now. How on earth have you been _doing_ all these years? You’re the star of urban development!”

They all troop out to Sonya’s car, Thomas and Newt’s mum chattering away, and Newt can’t stop grinning.

~fin~


End file.
